And in the End
by Face of Poe
Summary: Companion piece to Changes in Heart and What Once Was- a collection of filler chapters highlighting behind-the-scenes aspects of those two stories; read those first, or this will make little sense. Some HG/SS. Each chapter will be rated differently.
1. The Late Shift

**A/N: This is the beginning of a set of companion pieces to Changes in Heart and What Once Was- aspects won't make a lot of sense if you've read neither. So go read them. ;-)**

**Disclaimer: All recognizable things are property of JK Rowling, etc. **

**Rating: high T**

**Location in story- fits between Lucius Malfoy's trial and Dumbledore's death in What Once Was**

**The Late Shift**

She sat poring over paperwork long into the night, long after everyone else had gone home. Hermione had found her niche in the Bureau of Concealment in the Auror Department, and it was always very busy- not only did they deal with ex-death eaters and sympathizers trying to stay under the radar by covering their actions and other tracks which would lead back to Voldemort, but they also ran through pseudonyms and known cover identities which were provided to the head of the bureau by spies and the like. She knew for a fact that Severus had provided several of them, but most of the identities of the informants were kept top secret.

Ron and Harry, on the other hand, had chosen a more proactive, hands-on approach to the auror department; they frequently went on raids and confronted cornered supporters. From what Hermione understood, they were quite good at it- the presence of Harry Potter, she suspected, was enough to send half of the spineless supporters into paralyzing fear anyway- but she had little opportunity to speak to them since she'd earned a promotion and switched shifts last month.

Her change in job could be stressful at times, but she liked it. She worked at nights mostly, and was in charge of any correspondence received overnight. Periodically, someone would come in with a tip and they would be forced to send an emergency on-call team out to track someone down or make an arrest. It was Hermione's job to arrange those missions from her position as liaison and information-gatherer.

This, of course, had its ups and downs like any other job. She spent a lot of time to herself, which she usually liked, but could occasionally get lonely; also, it would make visiting Severus much more difficult when term started, because he worked during the school day, obviously, and when she worked nights, she found it hard to find time to make it to Hogwarts. Also, some nights nothing happened at all, and once she'd finished her usually daily routine, she was left with nothing but to sit there for hours reading or else wise occupying her time; which would have been great two months ago when she'd been worrying about her impending N.E.W.T.s, but now that they were done and grades were in- all top marks, of course- she had less necessary reading.

On this particular July night, things were shaping up to be about as slow as Hermione could remember; it had been nearly nine months since Voldemort's defeat, and the action was slowing down for her particular department- some crafty supporters still managed to weasel their ways around- Pettigrew among them, she thought with disgust.

She was preparing to wrap up her last bits of remaining work from the day and settle down with a cup of tea and the _Evening Prophet_ when an alert sounded, signaling someone wished to come up to the office. Hermione still struggled to get used to these visits- periodically, someone would come up with a special clearance code to verify their identity, and pass along a variety of information, sometimes crucial and time-sensitive, and at other times general information to file about the different people they were tracking. They were simply known as 'informers' and she was sworn to all kinds of secrecy regarding their identities. Some of them still worked closely with the subjects they were watching, and their surveillance was done very craftily and sneakily. Others- Severus for instance- were more of consultants, though she imagined that at the end of the first war, Severus had operated under all of the security standards still observed by some of the informers.

Their files did not possess real names; sometimes they introduced themselves to Hermione anyway, and others she knew only by code names. The file of the person waiting downstairs floated to her desk and she opened it; then, with a flick of her wand, a sort of intercom system was set up between the office and the level below.

"Clearance?" she asked.

"White Peacock, code one-one-six-three-eight-nine-Y."

With another flick of her wand, the intercom terminated and the doorway revealed itself to the person below. She whiled away the thirty seconds the informer spent walking to the office reviewing the file. It was an impressive one, she had to admit- five arrests made at this individual's information, and ten more suspects were either being pursued or watched in the meantime. Not your garden variety wizard with a vague suspicion about his neighbor, it seemed.

As she heard footsteps approaching her open office, she stood and called, "I'm glad you're here- this night was shaping up to--" she stopped mid-sentence. The approaching wizard stopped mid-stride. For a full fifteen seconds further they stood like that before Hermione sighed, turned, and stalked back into her office.

"Where is Auror McGinnis?" the man asked quietly as he followed her.

She rolled her eyes as she picked up the file once more. "Retired last month, _Mister_ Malfoy- it was rather a big deal here at the Ministry and in the news…"

"My apologies," he replied smoothly, "I was out of the country with my family- having a private celebratory vacation for Draco's graduation from Hogwarts." He looked around the office with a mild interest for a few moments. "So you're the new liaison then?"

"Obviously," she snapped. She slid his folder across the desk. "Sign and date," she commanded. He took a seat opposite her and obeyed, sitting back and surveying her curiously when he'd finished.

"Congratulations on the promotion," he said evenly as she dug around in her desk. Silence. "How are you liking the new job?"

She slammed the parchment and quill she'd just retrieved down on the desk in front of him. "Really?" she demanded. "You're going to try to make small talk?"

"Just passing the time," he commented idly, rankling her even further.

"Then do what you came here to do," she hissed, gesturing violently to the writing materials in front of him. She held her own quill and placed a pot of ink on the desk and sat waiting. He picked up the quill, touched the tip to his tongue, and held it against the parchment. He let it go and it hovered there, poised to write.

He began narrating what new information he had, helped occasionally by a piece of parchment which had been in his pocket. Hermione took notes on the essentials for herself- things that she had questions about, things that didn't match up, or things that struck her particularly important.

"…told me he'd caught wind of Peter Pettigrew, codenamed Wormtail…"

"What?" Hermione sat suddenly straight at attention. Malfoy eyed her strangely but repeated himself.

"My unnamed source in France told me that he had caught wind of Peter Pettigrew- Wormtail- attempting some various elusive activities… my, Miss Granger, you should pay more attention; I'd hate to see you lose your new job already. Or is it Mrs. Snape now? I'd hate to think I missed any nuptials whilst away…"

Hermione bit back a retort, too preoccupied by Pettigrew. She swallowed. "What sorts of elusive activities?"

"Oh, you know," he said, bored, "traveling frequently, procuring inordinate amounts of Polyjuice potion which, funnily enough, is how he came on everyone's radar in the first place… I suppose the nitwit isn't bright enough to brew it himself…"

"Oh," Hermione replied absently while scribbling furiously, "It's not so hard, I brewed it successfully when I was thirteen… where was Pettigrew last heard of?"

Malfoy regarded his parchment of notes. "Hm… Cormenon- it's a small wizarding community near Tours." He paused. "And really, Granger? What could a thirteen-year-old need Polyjuice potion for?"

Her eyes narrowed at his question, but since she'd brought it up, it only seemed polite to respond. "Actually," she said tightly, "Harry, Ron, and myself were brewing some to change into Slytherin students so we could sneak into the common room and interrogate Draco to see if he knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets. Come to think of it, I should probably tell Draco that story now, see if he even remembers…"

Malfoy just stared at her blankly. "Quite the meddlesome little three, weren't you?" he finally asked. "Still are," he muttered. She gave a sneer that could have rivaled one of Severus's. "So what's your vendetta against Pettigrew?" he asked lazily as she wrote tirelessly. She froze and looked at him incredulously.

"As if you don't know," she scoffed, looking down again.

He did his best to look politely confused. "No, actually," he drawled slowly. "Was it Black, then?"

She grimaced, hating herself for allowing herself to be drawn into a conversation that wasn't technically related to work with this man. "Sirius… yes, partly. But more importantly, the reason Sirius was hunting him down in the first place, when Pettigrew framed him." He stared at her blankly and she threw up her hands incredulously. "The Potters!" she hissed. "He sold them out, and he was supposed to be their friend!"

When Malfoy finally spoke again, he spoke in a slow and measured voice. "I was under the impression," he murmured, "that the whole idea of them being betrayed was a misunderstanding- a miscommunication…"

"Why would you think that?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Clearly young Mr. Potter held no ill will towards his convicted godfather," Malfoy retorted stiffly. "It seemed that the events were fabricated, misunderstood…"

"Only in that Sirius and Pettigrew switched positions as secret-keeper for the Potters!" Hermione cried. "Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, they switched, and Pettigrew was able to give Voldemort what he wanted, to protect his own miserable hide…" she took a deep breath and calmed herself. "But," she said evenly, "I suppose it's little use raging against one death eater to another; please continue your recounting, if you have more." She froze when her wrist was seized in a tight grip. "Let go of me," she said lowly, dangerously. Malfoy complied immediately, as though touching her had burned him.

"Do not," he said quietly, "compare me to that sniveling, cowardly fool of a rodent."

She eyed him skeptically. "You're much better," she spat.

"I never sold out a family who trusted me to save my own skin," he said calmly.

"No," she bit, "you torture and rape seventeen year-old girls for the fun of it."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, stopped, and sat back, observing her carefully. She was red with anger and was looking at him with such hatred, he wondered that she was still sitting here.

"Sometimes I wonder that you did not push for a lengthy sentence in Azkaban instead of full acquittal," he observed.

"That makes two of us," she muttered under her breath.

"Miss Granger," he said quietly, "I want you to imagine something. Imagine you are born into one of the oldest families known to our world- born to a father who places all emphasis into this concept of purity. You live in a class in which sons and daughters are disowned for straying outside of the carefully constructed social boundaries which they are given with no say in the matter at all.

"Now imagine you've finally come of age in a world like this- and someone new comes along, speaks convincingly, even eloquently on the matter, but somehow more rationally than your father ever managed. He is drawing the youth of this elite community to him, and you are no exception. Meanwhile, your pureblooded families around you are setting up marriages, keeping the families respectable for posterity.

"Time goes by, and this someone new begins to change his ways- uses deceit and violence, instead of rhetoric. Begins to _kill_ advocates for equality, and their whole families, rather than merely speak against them. The radicalism begins to unnerve you, others speak about leaving- some more successfully than others- but then you learn something else.

"You learn that your hand-picked, young, beautiful, pureblooded wife is pregnant. Her sister is the most vicious supporter of the new and violent ways, and is eager to turn in traitors- in fact, _prides_ herself on her vendetta against her 'blood-traitor' family members."

He sighed. "What do you do, Miss Granger? Do you risk it? Leave him and risk the life of your wife? Maybe. Do you risk the lives of your wife and unborn child? I was unwilling to do so. But then what choice do you have? To avoid suspicion, you must be convincing in your support, and through the attempt, perhaps you begin to convince yourself. Feeling, emotion are eliminated- you become what the monster wants you to be, and keep telling yourself that it is the only way."

"And you embrace the monster in yourself until something better comes along?" Hermione spoke, voice censuring.

"Until you must find a new way to protect that same family," he corrected in a surprisingly gentle voice, and Hermione remembered how Dumbledore had convinced him and Narcissa to cooperate the day of the battle. His tone then became hard again. "So do not be so quick to judge, _Miss_ Granger. You, who received the politically correct education of this world from books, not from dogmatic, intolerant society. You, who were quick to fall in with Potter and Dumbledore, champions of change and equality in a divided world; with the Weasley family, who gain credence in this world for their _purity_, but place no stock in it themselves."

"Yet even one so entrenched in your world as Draco was able to see the bigotry, the cruelty; was able to give it up, for morality's sake."

Malfoy sat back and looked at her curiously. "That is an interesting point, Granger. Even Draco did things- terrible things, perhaps- despite his defection. As did Severus."

She eyed him coolly. "Draco did what he had to do to help what he believed to be the right side- as did I. As did Severus. Even if he was later in his realization."

"Yes, and bear in mind that, as your actions led your enemies to force your family into hiding for their very lives, I was unwilling to do the same. And, well… when you live with Bellatrix, certain things are expected- certain…cruelties.

"Besides," his mouth curled upwards. "How was I to know that everything between you and Severus was a farce? Between you and Draco? I hardly thought it would faze you."

She was on her feet, wand in hand before he could so much as blink. "So to sum up," she said, shaking in fury, "torturing me was okay because Bellatrix Lestrange would have reported you to Voldemort if you didn't, and raping me was okay because you thought Severus and Draco had beaten you to the punch? Am I missing anything?"

"Yes, the part where killing Bellatrix Lestrange was the most satisfying part of my adult life. I thank you for the opportunity."

"At least we can agree on that," she muttered. She paused, hating herself for the interest she was about to express. "Why did you kill her?" she'd wanted to ask that for months now. "You and I- we both thought Draco and Harry had been killed, thought Voldemort was sure to win…"

"Having nothing to lose can be a powerful motivator indeed."

Hermione was struck, not for the first time, by how much this powerful, cruel, cold man cared for his family.

"And why are you here today?"

He studied her with an expression akin to bemusement. "Why do you think, Miss Granger?"

"I think the one thing more dangerous that serving Voldemort is betraying him."

He laughed lowly. "You're sharp. And blunt. But absolutely correct; no need to romanticize anything."

She looked at him with disdain. "Don't worry," she muttered, "I'd never mistake your actions for honor or nobility."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

When she got to Prince Manor, she found that Severus had waited up for her like always, despite the late hour. He seemed to read something of the anxiety in her eyes, as he silently took her cloak and led her to a chair where he almost instantaneously set a cup of tea in front of her.

He didn't question her about her night; he never did, knowing full well that she was bound to the strictest secrecy regarding her new job. What he did do, however, without fail, was determine just from looking at her what kind of night she had, and behave accordingly. Tonight was a tea and quiet relaxation night.

"His condition is deteriorating more rapidly now," he murmured softly into her ear.

She considered this for a bit. He thought she might have dozed off due to her lack of response. "How long do you think he has?"

"A month, perhaps. Maybe less."

"Is he in pain?"

He almost chuckled. "No. Or indeed, if he is, he doesn't show it. Albus Dumbledore somehow manages to be above such mundane, everyday things as pain."

Hermione smiled to herself.

"We should have Draco over sometime soon."

"Very well." He didn't question the abrupt change in topic, but sensed it somehow factored into her night.

Yawning, she stretched and stood up. "I'll write him tomorrow," she sighed with tiredness. Turning and regarding Severus one last time, she smiled. "Thanks for waiting up. You know you don't have to."

"Just as you know that I will, regardless of how many times you say that."

She grinned, and then her expression sobered as he stood to walk upstairs with her. "I think I'm going to sleep alone tonight," she told him. He looked at her in mild surprise, but did not argue. They parted ways at the top of the stairs with a lingering kiss, yet he sensed some reserve on her part. Something was definitely bothering her.

He was not surprised when two hours later, per his request, Harmony came in to tell him that Hermione was sleeping rather fitfully. Hermione was likewise unsurprised when she woke from the unpleasant recollections to the sound and feel of Severus sliding into the bed behind her and pulling her into his arms, pressing his lips to her hair, shoulders, neck, and back.

She slept the rest of the night in peace.

**A/N: So, installment number 1 of the filler chapter story! **

**I know this was less of a filler than a continuation- but it still fits before the absolute end of What Once Was, so I figured it counted. I also just really needed to delve a little further into the psychology of Lucius Malfoy, so hopefully this will have gotten that guilty pleasure out of my system (not that he won't feature in any other fillers… but none so prominently as this). **

**Hope you enjoyed. ;-) **

***~Lexi~***


	2. Well Worth the Wait

**A/N: So this is more of an extended scene than a filler per say. For those who wished there was a little more Hermione/Snape action- read on. ;-) **

**Rating: M**

**Location in story: immediately following Hermione & Snape's discussion of Lucius Malfoy's 'trial.' **

**Well Worth the Wait**

Severus's eyes glittered darkly as he watched her begin to pack once more. "Would you like some help with that?" he asked.

"Sure."

He flicked his wand once, and she stood back in surprise as all of her possessions which were going to Hogwarts flew neatly into her trunk.

"Some witch you make," he smirked. She sauntered over to the bed where he was sitting, grabbed a pillow, and smacked him in the face with it.

"I'm a fantastic witch," she smiled slyly. He grabbed the pillow and threw it back to the head of the bed before grabbing her and pulling her down to the bed with him.

"Agreed," he murmured, kissing her neck and all around her face before at last seizing her lips in a bruising kiss.

"Mm," she sighed as his hands caressed her body and face, "I've missed this."

"Blame…the Dark Lord," he grumbled between kisses, hands at the clasps of her robes, "for keeping… us all… too distracted…"

A low moan issued from Hermione as Severus's mouth descended on her neck, directly below her left ear. "Oh, I do," she gasped. "If he weren't already…dead," her voice hitched, "I'd kill him myself…"

Having successfully undone the clasps of Hermione's robes, Severus slid it off her shoulders and then sat back, contemplating her. She blushed at his scrutiny and turned her head to one side. He leaned over once more and kissed the corner of her mouth gently, hand cupping her face, thumb caressing her cheek. "Why so shy?" he teased gently and smiled.

She shrugged but smiled in return. "The way you look at me… it makes me feel naked, no matter how much I'm wearing," she laughed nervously. "Like you're rending my soul wide open, no matter how skilled an Occlumens I may be. I guess that sounds pretty stupid."

"Not at all," he assured her before reclaiming her mouth, tongue lightly teasing her lower lip as she allowed her mouth to be gently coaxed open. "Though let me assure you that my expression would likely be much different in practice, were I to actually see you naked."

Blushing profusely now, Hermione fought the urge to remind him that he _had_ seen her naked; she'd been direly injured, after all, so she supposed it didn't really count…

But ever the active thinker, Hermione multi-tasked between returning the increasingly impassioned kiss and considering what Severus had said. In the lust-induced haze of the moment though, the best response she could really formulate for herself was, 'well, why not?'

Reaching to her shirt, she began unbuttoning it from the top down. After the third, her wrists were seized and lowered to her sides, though Severus never ceased kissing her, now placing soft ones along her jaw line.

"I did not mean it as a request," he murmured close by her ear. She laughed lightly.

"I didn't think you did," she replied softly, but he did not release her arms. "Do all warm-blooded males discourage the disrobing of females in their presence?" she finally asked after a few more seconds.

"Only those with the patience of presence of mind necessary to not risk rushing anything." He finally sat back once more and regarded her with a guarded expression. His mouth quirked slightly at her appearance, hair mussed, flustered expression, shirt half undone.

"It's hardly rushing," she said reasonably, ever logical. "It's been more than three months since you first kissed me," he opened his mouth to retort, but she carried on. "And it's been another two since I moved back in and, I might remind you, began spending a number of nights with you." She paused. "And that notwithstanding- I mean honestly, Voldemort is dead, the loose ends have all been tied up- well, as many as possible- so why not live a little?"

His eyes darkened noticeably, expression becoming more intense. "As you wish," he practically purred. Slowly but deftly, he undid the remaining buttons of her blouse, pulling the two sides apart and watching the rise and fall of her chest appreciatively. With one hand, he cupped her face; the other gently explored her stomach, abdomen, skirting the edges of her bra, and finally to her neck.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, lowering his head to kiss the top of the swell of her breasts. She sighed contentedly and arched into his touch, reaching up and beginning the arduous task of unbuttoning his robes. When she finished, she reached to push it off of his shoulders, but he once more grabbed her hands, kissed them both softly, and slid sideways so that he was lying on his side facing her, propped up on one arm.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, breathless.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "Nothing at all. Come here," he commanded softly. She slid into his waiting arms and he adjusted their position so that she was facing away from him, their bodies flush, his head resting against her neck. Reaching one hand up, he pulled her hair back and placed the lightest of kisses in a spot behind her ear that made her shiver. She cried out softly and pushed harder against him, reveling in the feeling of her bare back against his naked chest. "Tell me what you want, Hermione." His voice was so quiet, she was scarce sure he'd truly spoken. Then again, her blood was pounding in her ears as a hand reached around to brush her stomach before lightly cupping and caressing her bra-clad breast.

"You," she groaned. "All of you."

"Are you sure?" his voice was mild as his fingers deftly unhooked her bra.

"Gods, yes," she murmured as he slid the material down her free arm, hesitated ever-so-briefly, and cupped her breast in his warm hand, thumb lightly brushing against the sensitive nipple and making her whimper at the sensation. She rolled over to face Severus, fully removing the loose garment, and pulled his head down to capture his mouth with her own while fully pushing his robe over his shoulders. Once removed, his arms wrapped around her body and pulled her tight against him once more. His hands slowly slid down her back, rubbing in random patterns as her mouth descended on his throat and sucked lightly. He hissed and pulled away as his fingers found the clasp and zipper on her skirt. Her breathing deepened and became more erratic as he knelt on the bed, slid a hand under each of her thighs, bent her knees, and pulled off her skirt as she lifted her body slightly off the bed to facilitate the process.

He remained in that position for several seconds, staring down at her, taking in her entire, almost-naked body. Starting at her face and mussed hair, his eyes roamed her figure, lingering over her breasts and hips, noticing a small red mark forming on her neck which he must have caused. A single long finger reached down to touch the spot before his lips descended upon it once more. With a hand on her hip, he slid another under her shoulders and rolled them. She shrieked in surprise as she suddenly found herself straddling him, staring down at his expression that was indeed entirely different from earlier; it has a wondrous and appreciative cast to it as he seemed to be drinking in her entire appearance, hands lightly skimming her sides, brushing against the outer swells of her breasts, making her breath hitch with each pass. He chuckled lowly as she gasped.

"I could lose myself in you, Hermione Granger," he murmured, barely audibly.

She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but didn't feel this was the particular time to be fussy about semantics. In this moment, she knew that this is what she had been lacking, what she'd never have been able to have with Draco, what she'd been so confused about that night, talking with Severus in the library, just a day or two after her stint at Malfoy Manor…

A shadow passed over her eyes thinking about it, and Severus frowned almost imperceptibly. He slowly lowered her back to the bed while kissing her softly. She reacted strongly, deepening the kiss, and reaching for his belt. He bit back a low groan as he lightly suckled at her throat before cupping and gently kissing her the sensitive flesh of her breasts. As she finished unclasping his belt, he slid a hand across her inner thigh, teasing the edge of her knickers- and she flinched violently.

He froze. The speed with which she managed to firmly press her legs together and slide as far up the bed away from him as she could was impressive. She sat there, arms around her knees, eyes wide, breathing heavily, and looking more confused than anything else.

"Hermione…"

"I'm sor-"

"Don't say it," he mildly reprimanded. Slowly, almost tentatively, he followed her up the bed and turned, sitting next to her. He slid an arm behind her shoulders and slowly coaxed her to lean against him. He drew the blanket up and covered her bare body.

"You knew this would happen." It wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't a question either. "You always know."

"I did not know," he sighed. "But I feared the possibility. You've had an emotionally taxing day which largely pertained to exactly the situation of which I feared any level of… intimacy… would remind you." He looked mildly sheepish. "But you persisted and I- well, I am only human." She chuckled and he was relieved to feel her relax against him.

Becoming quiet once more and serious, she tilted her head to look at him. "Have I ruined it then?" she asked ruefully.

"Believe me," he murmured lowly into her ear, "nothing could be ruined when I have you naked in my arms." He considered her for several long moments while she smiled shyly. "Perhaps our course shall be altered a bit," he finally determined, "but it need not halt if you do not wish it to." She shook her head adamantly. "Very well then…" He pulled her back into a lying position and lay behind her, removing his arm which had been around her shoulders. "Turn around," he instructed her. "Close your eyes."

She lay facing away from him, nervous anticipation building up in her. A warm hand pressed into her back and then another… he lightly traced random patterns against her skin before pressing harder, long fingers working their way against her decreasingly tense muscles in her shoulders, massaging her into relaxation…

Hermione sighed contentedly, pressing herself harder against him, reveling in the feelings. One hand lightly ran up and down her arm several times, giving her chills. Gasping as a hand lightly brushed against her stomach and then her breast, she arched herself into him, slipping easily back into the impassioned stage at which she had been only minutes before.

For several minutes, they remained like this; Hermione moaning and writhing as Severus's ministrations became slower, more measured, and exponentially more enticing. Finally, as her frustration culminated with a groan of, "you're killing me…" Severus wrapped his arm firmly across her body and drew her back so she was flush against him once more.

Agonizingly slowly, he teased the upper edge of her knickers, running his hand across her stomach, hips, and waist repeatedly as her breathing sped up in excitement.

"I can't take away what's happened," he whispered close by her ear. "But perhaps I can help take away the memory and the pain of it." A gentle kiss was placed against the pulse point in her neck even as his hand finally breached the cotton barrier. "You shouldn't have to associate any sort of intimacy with him ever again."

And he gently kissed her neck and back, even as his hand touched, stroked, caressed, making her gasp and moan as he wound her higher and higher before, with a final strangled cry, she tensed and shook in his arms. Collapsing against him finally, he withdrew his hand and held her to him tightly and drew the blanket close about her body.

She turned around in his arms and gave him a lingering kiss before tucking her head under his chin and burrowing against him, enjoying the warmth, comfort, and safety that she felt so keenly in this moment.

In retrospect, as Hermione lay curled in Snape's arms, she realized that the ongoing quest against Voldemort had, indeed, deprived them of a lot of time they might have otherwise spent together. But, she supposed with a smile, he was dead- and the wait had been well worth it.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

**A/N: ;-) **

**Not sure what the next scene will be, though I have a few good ones in mind… suggestions are more than welcome. **

**~Lexi**


	3. Septimus Prince

**Rating: T**

**Location in story: **Not IN the story per say, but a flash-back sort of reference from chapter 33

**Septimus Prince**

Failure was not an option tonight.

The goal was simple enough in theory, but actualizing it promised to be much more difficult. Timing would be tricky if he had any hope of accomplishing the task before the Polyjuice wore out. Success, however, would mean glory and honor- and a belonging that Severus had longed for since he was young. This was his chance, after a childhood of neglect, and a Hogwarts career of skulking in the shadows behind the blood-traitor likes of Potter and Black, to belong to something bigger and more important than himself. Just this one simple mission to prove to his lord that he was, in fact, worthy of his Mark, and he would be invited to take a place in his closest circle of advisers.

The first part of his mission was already completed without hitch- he was inside Hogwarts. It had not been difficult to break into the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade and make his way down the tunnel to the Hogwarts grounds; and from below the Whomping Willow, an anti-detection spell enabled him to slip from the passage to the lawn with no notice of the sudden arrest of the tree's usual movement. And on a nice spring evening, it was not difficult to meld in with the horde of students who were still enjoying a pleasant Friday-evening stroll by the lake or an impromptu quidditch practice, when they headed back into the castle just before curfew. The additional security of a disillusionment spell was not overlooked.

He'd chosen an unsuspecting Hufflepuff as his look-alike for the night, and a well-aimed summoning spell wrenched a few hairs from the unlucky student's head. The boy turned in confusion, shrugged, and proceeded up the staircase with the rest of his classmates. Severus, meanwhile, ducked into an old cupboard and set about adding the hairs from the unknown boy to the already-concocted mixture of Polyjuice.

And then he sat; he would not take the potion until he was sure he would get the most out of its hour-long effects, and it was still early. Students were supposed to be in the castle by dark, and in their houses by nine. Not caring to risk the chance of encountering his look-alike, Severus chose to bide his time until shortly after nine when the last stragglers would be hastening from the library back to their common rooms.

Grimacing through the transformation but otherwise unmoved, Severus reapplied the disillusionment charm and crept from his hiding place of the prior forty-five minutes. The corridor outside the Great Hall was deserted as he anticipated it would be. Observing the hallways with a strange sort of wistful longing mixed with bitterness, Severus made his way to the main staircase where he carefully ascended two flights.

The area around the library was eerily still and brought to mind some memories of sneaking in to work late some nights when Severus did not feel like enduring the presence of others of his house- or on nights when he and Lily wished to study together away from their watchful and gossiping peers…

He hastily skirted the library, hugging the far wall, and banished the memories from his mind- they were a sign of weakness. Soon enough, the past would be irrelevant and only one thing would matter- how he served his lord.

Several corridors over hung an ornate tapestry that looked Turkish, or Persian perhaps, and remarkable out of place in his medieval castle. Severus ducked behind it and hurried silently up the hidden staircase.

When he reached the fourth floor, he peered slowly from behind the corresponding entrance to the shortcut- this one a statue that swung gently forward to allow entrance. He swung it the slightest bit forward, with the aim of observing the corridor beyond, in the direction of his ultimate goal. This was the tricky stage- if at any point he was to worry about detection, this would be it. To the best of his knowledge, however, this passage he sought to locate was as unknown to the Hogwarts staff as it had been to the Dark Lord; assuming it existed at all.

The Dark Lord was not very forthcoming as to the source of his information, but Severus sensed that he was reticent to believe in its veracity. Perhaps the source was a prisoner who sought to earn an extra day or two of life by providing false information that would intrigue the Dark Lord.

And Severus's job was to ascertain the truth of the matter. An unknown entrance into Hogwarts could be invaluable to the Dark Lord.

Spurred onward by the promises of his own improved standing with his master, Severus crept from behind the statue and went slowly towards the opposite corridor- two steps, three… five…

"_Revelio_."

He barely had time to react to the sound of the voice before he realized that the disillusionment charm had been summarily stripped from his person. Spinning, he found himself face to face with a man who cut quite an imposing picture, adorned in robes that suggested he was a ministry employee and, as Severus suspected, an auror. In addition, he was a tall black man with a serious demeanor, albeit a relatively mild expression on his face.

"Well now," the other man said somewhat wryly. "I daresay you're a bit past curfew, Mr…?"

"Prince," Severus breathed. "Septimus Prince."

It was a risky gambit to be sure, but Severus didn't dare adopt the name of any current student, lest this auror should happen to know who they were and, unfortunately, he was unaware as to the name of the Hufflepuff from whom he'd stolen hairs for his Polyjuice. As it was, this was probably for the best; the auror did not recognize him, obviously, and he would likely never realize he'd been given a false name unless he questioned a teacher the next day, by which point it would be much too late.

"Prince," the man nodded slowly, seeming to mull the name over in his mind. "Up for a late night snack?"

"Something like that," Severus replied tonelessly, tightly gripping his wand in his pocket, lest this auror attempt to take him to his 'head of house.'

The two observed each other carefully for a few seconds before the older man smiled lightly. "Well, Mr. Prince, I don't think we need to make much of this little encounter, but nevertheless, you should get back to your common room. You never know what sorts of people might try to gain entry into the school at night…"

His heart skipped a beat but he sensed no underlying meaning in the words. Severus nodded once, abruptly, and continued in the direction he was already headed, under the pretense of heading towards the stairs. He turned back once and only once, ensuring that the other man was heading the opposite direction, and then he dashed down a side corridor as fast as he could, abandoning the disillusionment charm in favor of getting there as quickly as possible.

The mirror in question was halfway down the hallway; it was a relatively unused corridor, the history of magic classroom being in the next one over. He spared one fast glance to make sure no one saw what he was about to do and then quickly raised his wand and murmured:

"_Vita Occulo_."

The mirror dissolved into a strange liquid-like substance. Steeling himself, Severus stepped through the odd portal and found himself suddenly on the other side of a mirror that was solid once more.

It was a gigantic cavern with a winding passage visible on the far side. His breath caught and he knew that this might just be what the Dark Lord was waiting so eagerly for.

Illuminating his wand, he took his time exploring the cavern and the passage beyond, which continued on for what felt like miles, up and down, curving one way first, and then the other, nearly doubling back over itself several times it seemed. Eventually, however, he found the passage ended and a small trap door was set at an angle in the rock against the end of the passage.

It took several times to push the door open- he was hesitant to use magic for fear of damaging the door, causing any sort of cave in, or alerting any one on the other side to his presence. When he succeeded, however, he realized he needn't have bothered; he was in the mountains above Hogsmeade and all was quiet except for an owl calling mournfully in the trees above him.

_Scene Scene Scene Scene Scene Scene Scene_

"You have done well, Severusss," Voldemort hissed when the information was relayed barely minutes later. "You will be able to locate the spot again?"

"Of course, my lord," Severus bowed low.

"Good, good…" the creature before him crooned, petting the head of the gigantic snake that lay by his side. "That pathetic excuse of a man will prove useful after all, Nagini- we shall release him from the dungeonsss."

"My lord?"

Voldemort smiled widely and cruelly. "No matter, Severusss. You have done well; your information has proved the potential use of a new spy of mine. Come, take your place in the circle here- next to Luciusss."

"Thank you, my lord," Severus whispered, honored beyond belief at this fortune, and caring little about the talk of spies.

"Were you seen in the school?" Voldemort questioned him.

"I- yes, my lord," he answered honestly. "I was seen by an auror while in the form of some Hufflepuff boy; he did not recognize me and sent me on my way. A foolish man, he assumed I was out with the intention of harassing the house-elves in the kitchens."

Voldemort frowned. "An auror, you say? Hm… Dumbledore is getting nervousss, as well he should be, if he has aurors patrolling the corridors instead of teachersss. Who was he, Severuss?"

"I do not know, my lord. A younger man, of thirty perhaps- very tall, dark… serious, but with an open disposition about him."

"Shacklebolt," Lucius broke in. "My lord, the description sounds like that of Kingsley Shacklebolt; a Dumbledore-loving fool but unfortunately gifted as an auror. He had some of the highest training scores since Moody himself."

Voldemort seemed mildly disquieted by this unlooked-for information, but he adopted a disregarding expression. "No matter; he sounds like a trusting fool, just like Dumbledore."

_Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. _

"You were right, Albus," Kingsley announced by way of greeting. Dumbledore sighed. "Why are you so concerned about this spot in particular? There are numerous ways of entering Hogwarts, surely.

"Indeed, but this spot is of particular interest due to the remoteness of its other exit, and an extremely limited knowledge of its existence."

"Are you sure the Snape boy couldn't have found it while a student?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Then why go through the fuss of entering by the Shrieking Shack and the Willow? He already knew of that passageway due to an unfortunate incident while he was still a student. No, he was verifying information gathered through a different source."

Kingsley was quiet for a few moments, considering this. "Do you know who that source might be?"

The office was silent again for some time. Dumbledore finally roused himself from whatever thoughtful stupor had entranced him and tapped his wand against a piece of parchment, muttering under his breath.

"There are a few possibilities," he replied vaguely. "Each as unlikely as the next." He stood and folded the parchment before him and handed it to Kingsley. "Could you see this back into the hands of James, please?"

"Of- of course," Kingsley spared the briefest uncomprehending glance at the blank sheet he was holding. "And what do you want to do about the passage on the fourth floor?"

Dumbledore sighed again, heavily. "I had been hoping to keep it as a safe means of evacuating students, if need be- but no matter now that it is compromised. That chamber right behind the mirror is too big- Voldemort could amass an entire army of death eaters in there while we slept. No, the tunnel will have to be collapsed."

"Immediately?"

"No, no," Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "I need to investigate the structure of the surrounding rock before doing anything drastic. No, Voldemort will not act hastily, and we shan't either. If we wait a week or two, he'll have already sent some spies and reconnaissance, which will save young Severus Snape the misfortunate of bearing the brunt of Voldemort's wrath."

The auror regarded the old, weary man for a minute. "Why the concern for this boy?"

"Honestly," Dumbledore shrugged, "I'm not certain. It's just- some people have joined Voldemort out of an actual desire to hurt, kill, torture- some people truly believe that what he says is the truth and how the world should be run."

"And not Snape? Or 'Septimus Prince,' as he introduced himself to me," Kingsley chuckled.

"No," Dumbledore said slowly. "He was a neglected child, and an unusually bright student who had the misfortune of coming immediately at odds with those who had the power to make his time here barely bearable. No, to Severus, Voldemort is a means of having a family that he was never able to have, and to belong to something that he perceives will bring him power and prestige. Besides," he added quietly, to himself, "he lost the girl."

"What was that?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Nothing, Kingsley. Severus has just had more than his share of unluckiness in this world, but I still have hope held out for him."

**A/N: I know I haven't touched this in a while, but inspiration strikes when it strikes! ;-)**

**Hope you enjoyed. **

**~Lexi**


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